Aftertaste
by tempestquill
Summary: The aftertaste is bitter and wanting in his mouth, he's seen life in those usually dull black eyes, and he wants to see it again. He wants to see the world's greatest detective come alive...


Author's Notes: I wanted to write about L's feet. Enough said. LOL.  
Disclaimer: Death Note and recognizable characters belong to Ohba/Obata.

"Aftertaste"  
By C.K. Blake

The taste is bitter in his mouth, with a sharp bite of copper. His tongue roves across his teeth, experimentally checking to make sure none of them are loose. He's sitting in one of the desk chairs, facing the bright, imposing monitor of his assigned computer, the weight of the handcuff heavy on his wrist. He's been silent for the last hour, ever since getting the crap kicked out of him by his supposed friend.

Okay, so maybe he did throw the first punch, but it wasn't like he expected a face full of foot for his troubles. He was only trying to get L, or Ryuzaki or whatever, out of his depressive funk. That foot came flying out of nowhere, and then the fight was on, he was throwing punches, and L was moving, feet flying, body bending and flowing, the chain between them hindering their movements, but not their ire.

Raito's light brown eyes fall shut as he recalls in his mind's eye how L moved. It was so unexpected to see the usually still and stoic detective come alive, his dark eyes burning like coals, and the way his body moved, how it flowed, bent, bowed, and spun. Even with that damn chain between them L had somehow managed to be graceful, the style of his fighting like some dance fueled by violence, anger, frustration, hate, and possibly desire. Those dark eyes had certainly spoken of animosity and want.

He's startled from his thoughts at the familiar, soft, stoic tones of L's monotone voice, "Does Raito-kun need a break? Perhaps our earlier activities have spent your energy more quickly than usual? You need only ask to rest should you need it and I will accommodate you for a reasonable period."

"Fine," Raito replies sulkily. "Let's get out of this room. I'm tired of staring at a computer screen."

"And I could use some cake," L says flippantly as he shuts down his laptop and slips out of his wheelie chair, his bare feet landing on the floor, and Raito can't help but stare at those feet, amazed at how much L can do with them, and again he's startled when L's soft voice continues, "Is something the matter Raito-kun?"

"What? No. I guess I'm just tired," he replies.

L nods and looks around the office, bringing his thumb to his bottom lip, and then glances at the clock. "I didn't realize it was so late. Everyone's already left for the evening. When did that happen?"

Raito snorts. "About an hour ago. Matsuda got really whiny, so my dad told him and the others to leave and I sent my dad home. He looked exhausted, and I'm sure my mom and Sayu miss him."

"Then I suppose with it being so late we could stop for the night, but we'll have an early start in the morning," L says.

"You're so generous," Raito replies dryly.

L grabs up his laptop and then leads the way out of the office. They stop at the kitchen, and Raito watches as L eats cake and drinks tea that would rot a normal person's teeth. He can't look away from L, and finally as L devours the last morsel he looks at Raito and says, "You are unusually quiet, and you keep staring at me. Is there something you wish to say?"

Raito sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "It's nothing really, just earlier today, when we fought… You don't look like someone who would know moves like that. I mean I look at you and your eating habits and it's a wonder I didn't break your face when I hit it, and next thing I know I've got a face full of your foot and an aching jaw. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"From an old acquaintance from the F.B.I. She was a very valuable investigator, and quite an effective teacher in the style of capoeira. It's a fighting style from Brazil that incorporates dance and balance."

"Was? What happened to her?" Raito asks.

L levels Raito with a dark gaze and says, "There is a ninety-six percent chance that Kira killed her. She was in Japan with her fiancé, her fiancé was killed by Kira, so she took an interest in the case and disappeared. It's quite a shame really. Then again, her fiancé wasn't particularly bright in requesting she retire from the force in order to marry him. People do such strange things for emotions and maintaining appearances."

"How long did you know her?" Raito asks, detecting a note of attachment in the detective's voice.

"We worked on an investigation for a short while, and then she taught me capoeria, it took me about six months to master," L replies.

Raito just nods, unsure of what to say to that. L has many surprising talents aside from his vast intellect. L gets up and Raito sighs as he turns to follow, and he notices that the detective has his laptop, which means that L will be working all night while Raito deals with attempting to sleep while trying to ignore the glow of the laptop.

When they reach their rooms, L sets his laptop up on the coffee table and then perches on the couch. Raito sighs, it's going to be a long night working up L to go to bed. Raito takes a seat on the end of the couch, picks up the television remote and turns on the news.

There's a report on the financial decline of several companies, and the substantial growth of Yotsuba Corp, but that's something they already know. Raito lets out a sigh, and his gaze keeps slipping over to L, perched on the edge of the couch, thumb raised to his mouth, eyes glued to the screen of his laptop, toes curled over the edge of the couch cushions, his hair wild as usually, back curved from his position.

How can this hunched up, skinny, sweet addicted weirdo be so graceful, when currently he looks like a ghoul, his face gray in the glow of his laptop? Raito closes his eyes and shakes his head, and then his eyes fly open as he remembers those dark eyes blazing bright. He looks at L again, and those dark eyes are dull, but he wants to see that fire again, he wants to see L moving in that violent dance again.

He turns to the detective, the links of the chain clinking between them. L doesn't even blink or turn to look. Raito can't take that blank look on the detective's face, not after the violence and life he saw earlier today. He has to do something, anything to make L look at him like that again, and that is when Raito does something he hasn't done in years, he gives in to impulse.

He dives across the couch, knocking both himself and L to the floor, L beneath him, those slender limbs coming alive beneath Raito, as he struggles to use his position to keep L beneath him, that lithe, writhing body causing something to coil and burn in his gut.

Those dark eyes glare up at him, and the blood boils in his veins, he wants to fight, to feel that slender body move and dance against his, all those graceful movements he wants to feel. Raito darts forward, his mouth colliding with L's, a battle for dominance fought with tongue and teeth, and so far Raito's winning.

L bucks up beneath Raito, enough to cause Raito to lose some ground, and with a quick turn, and the surprising strength in his legs, L has turned the tables, has Raito pinned beneath him, his lips swollen and eyes blazing, blood pumping like fire through his veins, and Raito is looking up at him, fierce, determined; challenging him.

L gets his bare feet between them, the soles of those feet pressed against Raito's chest and he shoves him away. Raito launches himself back at him, and L feels a twitch pulling at the corners of his mouth as their dance begins. This time no one is around to interfere.

End.


End file.
